“Honey, what are you talking about? Of course you are beautiful! There are different types of beauty and don’t let anybody tell you otherwise.”
“My mother said I will never be a beauty,” the little girl sighed and Kimone wanted to deck her mother one. The woman was a miserable woman who had been divorced recently and held self pity to her like a warm cloak.
“Honey, this is one time I am going to tell you not to listen to mommy, she does not know what she is saying.” Kimone told the little girl firmly, taking her little hands in hers. “When I was a little girl I had a lot of pimples on my face and I was short and chubby and the children used to call me ‘shortie’. I hated the name so much that I went home crying to my mother that I wanted to wear heels to school. My mother sat me down and told me she would rather me be short than having to pick up my broken bones in the school yard. She also told me that years to come I would grow out of whatever it was that I didn’t like and become a beautiful young lady.”
Sally was staring at her in fascination. She had always wished that Miss Kimone was her mommy and that she had the beautiful complexion and the black ‘crazy’ curls as her mother called them that framed her face. She could not believe that the woman sitting cross legged in front of her was ever unattractive. “Do you think I will grow up to be beautiful?” she asked hopefully.
“Sweetie you are already beautiful,” Kimone told the little girl, giving her a hug.
*****
Peter called her on Saturday at six just as she was about to close the shop. It had been a productive day and she was very thankful for it. All she wanted to do was to take a hot bath and grab something easy to cook from the fridge.
“Hey Peter,” she greeted him warmly. “I know I was supposed to call you from the other day but I was very busy, sorry.”
“And of course you have not been to the coffee shop as well,” he said in amusement. “How are you surviving without your caffeine rush?”
“Pretty well,” she laughed, holding the phone between her ear and one shoulder as she secured the lock on the door. “Keeping busy has been a substitute.”
“How about dinner?”
“Now?”
“Why not?” he countered. “I am sure you have not eaten yet, have you?”
“As a matter of fact I was just going home to rummage in the fridge for something to eat.” Kimone told him contemplatively.
“Want me to pick you up?”
“You know where I am?”
“The cute little store with the sign blinking: ‘Come and Play’?” he asked in amusement.
“That’s me,” she said with a laugh. “Oh heck, why not?” she told him looking down at her faded denim and black wool sweater and black boots. It was almost the end of November and the weather was frigid. “I hope it’s nowhere very fancy, I am not dressed for it.”
“I am sure whatever you are wearing will be suitable.” He had wanted to tell her that he was sure she would be beautiful in anything.
“I am outside the shop.”
“I am five minutes away.” He told her.
He made it to her in less than three minutes and Kimone found her eyebrows rising at the dark blue sedan that spoke of quiet luxury. He stepped out and came around to open the door for her. He was dressed in the usual jacket suit with a black overcoat that looked like cashmere.
“You weren’t far away I see,” she said, flashing him a smile that always managed to turn his heart over as she secured her seatbelt in place.
“My office building is not far from here.” He put the vehicle into drive and moved away from the curb. “What do you feel like eating?”
“Anything as long as it’s food.”
They settled for a burger joint and Peter watched in fascination as she haggled with the waiter about the price. She struck up a conversation with the shy looking pimple faced young man until the obviously smitten young man came back with a tray laden down with two large juicy burgers, fries and large cups of sodas and complimentary slices of apple pies. “Thanks Raoul and make sure you use the cream like I told you.”
“How do you do that?” Peter asked her in wonder as she nibbled on a fry. He wanted so much to take her into his arms and taste her mouth, he was having a hard time keeping his hands on his side of the table.
“Do what?” she asked puzzled.
“Get people to tell you what’s bothering them?”
“Easy, I worm my way into their thoughts,” she told him with an unabashed grin.
“I believe that,” he told her softly, his dark eyes holding hers for a moment.
They ate in silence for a while and then Kimone said: “So what is a handsome guy like you doing out with me on a Saturday night? No hopeful lady waiting for you?”
“Not yet,” Peter told her briefly. “So tell me about the store? What made you come up with the name and what is it all about?”
Kimone told him about the idea she had and the dream she had for the store. She found herself telling him about the lease and the lack of finances to put her ideas into effect. He sat there listening to her and a thought started germinating inside his mind.
“Have you ever thought of finding a backer?” he asked her casually, biting into the succulent and juicy burger. Normally he stayed away from places like these and even though he did not always eat traditional Japanese dishes, he preferred to eat healthy.
“Hard to find a backer with a vision,” Kimone said with a grimace dunking a fry into the packet of ketchup and chewing on it thoughtfully. “The bank turned me down because the loan officer all but told me to go and get a real job.”
“Too bad, it sounds like a good business plan.”
“Okay enough about me Peter,” she said, mentally shaking her problems away. “What about you? What is your company all about?”
Peter wished she had continued talking about her plight because he wanted to find out more about what she needed. “My parents started this import/export company where they catered to the needs of the people around them. It became surprisingly successful and when they died four years ago I was left to continue the business. I sort of add to the company.”
“What kind of things?”
“We are into mostly technology. Smart phones, computers, and cars you name it.”
Something went off inside Kimone’s head and she stared at the handsome man in front of her eating a burger in a tiny nondescript restaurant. “I am so daft and my mother is always telling me that I have my head in the clouds.” She muttered. “You are the owner of ‘Makeida’s Import and Export’ aren’t you?”
“Guilty,” he told he sheepishly.
“All this time we bumped into each other at the coffee shop and I never connect you with what appears to be a billion dollar company, a freaking Fortune 500 company because, why should I? What would an entrepreneur like you be doing in a tiny coffee shop, getting his own coffee? Isn’t that what secretaries are for?” Kimone was aware that her voice had gone up an octave but she blamed it on shock. Peter was a real live billionaire and it was not every day that she met one, let alone sitting in a tiny restaurant having burgers with.
“I am the same person you almost gave third degree burn with your coffee all those months ago Kimone,” he insisted, alarmed at how her expression had changed. She had gone from being the carefree happy go lucky woman to one who wore a suspicious expression on her beautiful face. “I thought you knew who I was all this time and the type of person I saw you as I knew it would not make a difference to you.”
“You think you know me?” she was still looking at him in suspicion.
“I think I do,” he answered softly, fully aware that he had to tread lightly. He was in love with her and he had to find a way to make her fall in love with him and want to be with him without spooking her. It had to be her. “You don’t stand much on ceremony and you don’t care about a person’s wealth or lack thereof, you treat everyone just the same.”
“Pretty observant for someone I bare
ly know.” Kimone’s expression relaxed and she smiled at him. He almost went weak with relief and knew that from now on he had to be careful. He had a proposition to make to her but he had to know how to word it.
“What are you saying?” he said with a mock wounded expression on his face. “We are practically best friends.”
Kimone laughed, effectively dispelling the air of tension around them. “Okay best friend, let’s finish eating before they tell us we have to leave.”
He talked to her about Japan, careful to steer clear of anything pertaining to his company and her store. He told her of growing up as an only child and being spoiled but not overly so, he said with a grin. He was never told that he had to marry a Japanese girl even though both his parents were Japanese, he was told to make his own choice, whatever race as long as he was in love.
“How nice,” Kimone murmured. They were eating the delicious apple pie and even though she was full to bursting she was determined to finish it; it was much too good to waste and she did not want to disappoint Raoul. “So why is it that you are such a catch and still single?”
“I am waiting for the right woman,” his eyes met hers and for a moment Kimone felt something pass between them, something she was not ready or willing to explore so with a shrug she broke the contact and concentrated on her pie.
“How about you?” he asked her. “What was your childhood like?”
“I lost my dad at a very young age and barely remember him.” Kimone mused. “My mother carried on the parenting even though she had to be suffering from losing him because they had shared a great love. I did not lack anything even though he was not around, she made sure of that.”
“We have a lot in common,” he remarked.
“Oh I strongly doubt that,” Kimone said with a laugh. “What with you being a billionaire and all that.”
“I am still a man, the man you are talking to right now.” He told her softly and for the second time that night Kimone felt the pull, of what, she did not know and she refused to accommodate it. He was a friend, albeit a very rich one but a friend nonetheless.
They finished the meal and he gave Raoul a handsome tip which had the lad beaming from ear to ear and telling them to come again.
He took her home and she told him goodnight, placing a hand on his arm as she opened her door.
“Tomorrow at the coffee shop?” he queried, forcing himself to remain inactive when all he wanted to do was to taste her lips and bury himself inside her.
“Will you be buying?” she asked him impishly.
“Of course,” he told her with a smile, watching as she alighted gracefully, pulling her coat around her small frame.
With a wave she went inside her apartment.
He did not move off immediately, sitting in the vehicle and watching as she switched on her light and pulled aside her curtain to look out at him. Feeling like a pervert, he waved at her and drove off in contemplation. He had not wanted to leave, he had wanted to stay with her, tell her how much he felt for her and how he wanted her to be in his life and take away all her financial worries but he was afraid of moving too fast and losing her entirely. He had to take it slow and find some way to convince her that marrying him was going to be beneficial to them both.
Chapter 3
“Sunday afternoons were not meant to be spent like this,” Kimone grumbled as she put the small thread of silver thistle alongside the red one. She and Dawn and Georgia, who worked at the residence as a nurse’s aide, were decorating the huge fir tree that her mother had managed to get a neighbor to purchase from the greenhouse. The decorations had been dragged from the basement, dusted and shined off and more had been added to the already numerous decorations accumulated over the years.
A step ladder had been retrieved and the extra bright star had been put on the top; its lights twinkling merrily in the partial darkness. It was already the first week of December and Kimberley had told them firmly that if the Christmas tree was not up and decorated by the first week then it made no sense to put it up at all.
The residents were milling around admiring the team effort. They had been offered hot chocolate and oatmeal cookies. Her mother was busy elsewhere setting up a choir for the concert she was planning.
“It’s not like you have anywhere else to be is there?” Dawn looked at her quizzically as she examined the different colored bulbs on the tree and wondered if there were too many things already there. She had a tiny Santa playing a drum in her hand and was looking for a suitable spot to put it. “I, on the other hand, was invited to dinner with Gregory’s parents and I turned them down to do this, I had to reassure them it was for a worthy cause.”
“So what? Just because I don’t have a boyfriend’s parents to go to dinner with; my time is not valuable?” Kimone asked her friend, slightly peeved. She had yet to tell Dawn about going out with Peter and about him being a billionaire and seeing him at the coffee shop the mornings she had gone there. They had chatted about this and that. She told him about her plan to decorate the Christmas tree at the store on Monday and was thinking of gift-wrapping some toys to go under the tree.
“Of course it is honey,” Dawn said with a teasing grin. “But just not as valuable as those of us who have a life away from work.”
Kimone flung a piece of crepe paper at her not in the least bit offended. Georgia smiled at the friends and went to assist one of the resident’s who had started coughing.
“I don’t know how someone as young and pretty as Georgia can stand to do this every day,” Dawn commented as she watched the girl gently take the elderly woman’s arm and lead her off in the direction of the rooms. It was a pleasant enough place with cheerful colored paint and brightly painted throw rugs on the floor as if someone had strove desperately to move away from what the place really was: a home where people were sick and in need of help. Kimberley had been one of those persons who did whatever she could to make the place more accommodating but one could not escape the smell of medication and old age.
“Somebody has to do it,” Kimone murmured, staring at old Mrs. Lodge who was dozing in a chair by the fireplace with her mouth half opened. Not for the first time she realized that her mother was one of the few people who really cared and it was not for show.
“Darlings! You have done a terrific job.” Kimberley bustled out bearing a tray loaded with different types of cookies and tiny sandwiches with a young boy behind her with two cups of steaming coffee in his hands. “You deserve all you can manage to eat from this tray.” She came over to where the two girls were taking a break from decorating and were sitting on the only available sofa in the large living room. She placed the tray on the table in front of them and joined them on the faded sofa.
“It makes a big difference doesn’t it?” she asked softly as she smiled at young Benjamin and told him thanks as he placed the cups on the table.
“It sure does,” Dawn told her heartily; reaching for two sandwiches and several of the heart shaped cookies. She could not get enough of Kimberley’s baking; the woman was a whiz in the kitchen.
“Mom, these are delicious!” Kimone exclaimed always amazed at how delicate and light her mother’s baking always turned out. Whenever she tried to bake even a simple cake it turned out like rock; she certainly had not gotten the touch from her mother.
“I have placed some in a bakery box for both of you; the bigger box is for you Kim because I know you want to entertain the little ones at the store.”
Both girls mumbled thanks with their mouths full.
They sat their own strange comforting warmth of the residential home living room eating and chatting about the plans for the Christmas dinner and concert.
“You should hear Mrs. Lodge reciting a poem she wrote a few days ago. The woman has talent! Apparently she was a literature teacher some decades ago and she has a creative flair.” Kimberley said excitement in her voice. “And old Joe and Martha are going to honor us with a waltz that should be something not to be missed.”
<
br /> She told them the items she had planned for the concert and the theme for the dinner would be ‘oldies but goodies’ and she had encouraged the residents to dress up as their favorite old time movie stars.
“I hope by that time you would be able to find a date dear,” Kimberley looked at her daughter quizzically. She had always encouraged Kimone that she should not let the business consumed her entire life and that she should find a life away from the stress of work.
“I strongly doubt that,” Kimone said dryly, finishing her sandwich.
They finished up and both Dawn and Kimone left together. Kimberley said she would be staying to play bridge with some of the ladies.
“I am thinking of giving in to Gregory,” Dawn commented as she negotiated the car through the Sunday evening traffic. It was getting very cold and there was also a stiff breeze accompanying the cold.
“You make it sound like a death sentence,” Kimone pulled her coat closer to her as she felt a sudden draft. She had not dressed warm enough because earlier today the weather had seemed mild.
“It’s not like that,” Dawn said with a sigh. “But considering what I went through you can’t blame me for being cautious. You are right, I cannot judge him because of what happened to me in the past, he deserves a chance.”
“I am not one to give relationship advice, I have never been in one,” Kimone said wryly sending her friend a smile. “But I think Gregory is a nice guy.”
“I think so too.” Dawn agreed. “That’s why I have finally said yes to an engagement ring.”
“Honey that’s great!” Kimone gave her hand a squeeze, genuinely happy for her.
*****
Kimone spent the rest of the evening preparing for the next day. She had added a reading corner in the little store and had decided to include a bedtime story reading so that the children could read to the dolls and enhance their own vocabulary. She had yet to decide whether or not she should take to money from her mother even though she had told her yet again that it was there for her whenever she needed it. The lease would not be up for another four weeks so she still had time to make up her mind. She had so many plans for the little store that sometimes she felt the ideas bursting out of her head.
Love In Arms_BWWM Romance Page 16
